


a taste for gasoline

by Pandir



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Other, Self-Destructive Tendencies, Unhealthy Obsessions, Unhealthy Relationships, the Obscurus / Credence literally pouring inside of Graves so yeah this is what you get in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 16:31:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8924236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandir/pseuds/Pandir
Summary: There's a hunger that consumes them both.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [вкус к газолину](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11383791) by [kier1899](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kier1899/pseuds/kier1899)



It had been so easy to overlook him. The boy, hunched as if he wanted to curl up any moment, made himself so small in his arms that his eyes had simply looked right past him, so very set on the child he was seeking and the promises his vision held.  
Still, he had been so blind not to see, not to feel the power hidden beneath the desperate need when the young man shivered under his touch, when his rigid posture became pliant as he leaned into his hands like he could melt under their measured affections, sink right into this stranger’s skin who he’d come to trust so readily, to finally ease his loneliness.

*

There certainly was no losing sight of him now, a being of unmeasurable power unleashed and unguided, leaving nothing but destruction in his wake. And Graves, who wore the name still like the sleeked-back hair and dark refined clothes, only had eyes for him.  
  
"Credence!“, he shouted over the howling of the Obscurus, following its path until it finally stayed its aimless rampage, turning its anger and distress towards him. Promises spilled from Graves’ lips as he stared up into the heart of the swirling, mesmerizing darkness while the city fell apart about them - what they could be, what they could achieve, together. All he could do now was apologize for his oversight and his impatience, yet he could hardly regret it, not when he had just witnessed a miracle he had never deemed possible - these unfathomable magical energies so perfectly concealed breaking out of this awkward, unassuming young man with such a ferocity, and his true self, beautiful and devastating, not something to be hidden and contained, now laid bare to the world.  
  
The only thing that mattered was that Credence still listened when Graves spoke of their future and their place in a world that was not worthy of them. And he did, at least for now, for a precious, precarious moment. Although conflicted, helpless under the force of his emotions, Credence had not vanished entirely – he still retained some control, and what was more important, he had not yet taken the life of the man who had cast him aside so carelessly.

Graves was very aware that his mistake might very well prove to be fatal and that he should be afraid, but he did not fear Credence’s anger. The air was rich with this excessive, unbridled magical energy and it made the fine hairs on his neck and arms stand on end, his own magic singing under his skin and prickling on his fingertips. He did not fear this deadly, overwhelming power, even though he could sense it so keenly. Instead, he was filled with awe and wonder.  
  
The storm gathered about him, leaving him still unscathed in the centre of it, and there was an otherworldly noise about him, a voiceless hissing and shrieking, as the black vapor coiled and uncoiled again. Graves searched the winding forms and shapes for a silhouette, a shadow of the vessel and source.  
  
"Credence“, Graves said, softly this time, the word now less of a name than a prayer of worship.  
  
The Obscurus lunged forward with a howl. Graves did not move, and as it parted right before him, he could suddenly hear it clearly - a familiar voice, barely audible, yet distinct amidst the ragged howling and wailing of the Obscurus.  
  
_Don’t ever leave me, Mr Graves._

Credence’s face manifested within the curling, formless smoke, his mouth repeating the same words that seemed to echo from the depth of the darkness about them, imploring, almost demanding.  

"I won’t leave you“, Graves responded, careful to make certain Credence heard that he meant every word, and he opened his arms, his palms turned towards him as an invitation.

Credence took a few guarded steps, a hesitant, fleeting shape, his contour diffuse and hazy and his feet barely touching the ground. His eyes had turned dark again instead of pure white, and they were on Mr Graves like they used to be, enthralled, as if even in this utter chaos, only the two of them mattered. This time, however, Credence did not lower his gaze as he approached him.

“I know“, Credence's words were quiet, barely more than a mutter, but there was a certainty to them. As his fingers brushed the fabric of Graves' coat, Graves recognized something almost familiar in the way he looked at him now. Credence must have hidden it for years with his head bowed and his eyes averted, but as he moved closer, his lips parting as if to kiss, there was a desperate hunger in his eyes, overt and unconcealed.

"I won’t let you.“  
  
Darkness blossomed from Credence’s mouth, and his entire form dissolved before he ever so much as touched Graves’ lips. Then, with hoarse, haunting sound, Credence poured into Graves' slightly opened mouth, not a boy now, but shapeless entity, black and viscous like tar. Graves’ arms were still opened wide, yet there was nothing to hold onto as the darkness dove inside of him without any resistance. It was like hot oil coating Graves’ mouth and tongue with numbness, crawling down his throat and suffocating any strangled noises, taking all true and false promises with it.

Graves struggled to breathe and inhaled nothing but this weightless, shifting void that already pushed into his lungs. It was like breathing condensed, damp fume. He gagged silently, unable to make a sound, his lungs full to the point of bursting. His vision darkened as he fell to his knees, black vapour rising from his mouth and nostrils, like the smoke of a wildfire consuming his insides. Credence was within him, thrumming in his veins and burning in his lungs, and it was too much to bear, too much power to be contained within him - it was tearing him apart at the seams. His panic seemed to agitate Credence, and something vast churned behind his ribcage, ripping through his lungs as a vibrant, forceful stream of magic and left him breathless and shaking. He was coming undone, the entirety of him frayed and rent.  
  
And for a moment, a blissful, glorious moment, it felt as if he, too, had dissolved into nothing but pure magical energy, relentless, unstoppable and free.

He did not notice the wetness on his face, or the rubble beneath his knees and hands scraping his trousers and his skin. Graves' body convulsed as he choked on wordless pleas, and Credence was on his every breath, smouldering beneath his skin and thrumming in his ears, deafening and all-encompassing.

Something warm dripped from his mouth, dark and thick and tar-like, and Gellert swallowed, greedily, like parched earth soaking up the first drops of rain, as the Obscurus weaved and coiled itself around him, engulfing them both completely.


End file.
